Not Sherlock enough
by IAmTheMedusa
Summary: Sherlock is having trouble dealing with perturbing thoughts, John too...First fic ever. Slash. Sherlock/John. Don't own, obviously...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Not Sherlock enough

Sherlock was sulking laying in a foetal position on the sofa, his back turned to John.

"Dull, dull, dull work of yours, don't say you don't want to accompany me to Scotland Yard. It's FAR MORE INTERESTING than your VULGAR PATIENTS!" he said childishly half shouting half pleading.

"Sherlock, I've never hidden that I was a Doctor, my purpose is to heal people, you know, and it goes without saying that since we have to pay the rent, I have no choice. I'm sure you'll do perfectly fine without me." John was hiding a smile.

"OF COURSE I'LL DO FINE WITHOUT YOU!" Sherlock threw a cushion in John's approximate direction.

"Ok, see you tonight, Sherlock." John knew sherlock wouldn't answer and went out of the flat. He never thought he would get used to this kind of behaviour but now it was his every day life and he kind of liked it...very much.

"How can he choose such a trivial thing as his work over the excitement of a good killer hunt?" Sherlock said to the wall. "If it wasn't for this Sarah, I'm sure he wouldn't even go. Choosing this Sarah over me. It's absurd."

He threw another cushion trough the living room.

"Listen, John," Sarah said "we are not exclusive, since we've just shared a few kisses we can't call ourselves a couple and frankly I believe you already are part of a couple, John, and I'm not Sherlock enough to be the other half of it." she smiled "I've accepted a date with Keith."

"Keith is a patient."

"Yours not mine." She said a smile in her voice before rushing in her office, she was late for her first appointment.

It has been a very long day at the surgery. John came back at the 221B Baker street still upset by Sarah's words...Of course their first date hadn't been what he expected it to be (and surely far from her idea of a perfect date either) and he had, more than once, postponed their rendez-vous to help Sherlock in his investigations but... using the word "couple" was a little harsh. He was lost in these thoughts while climbing the stairs when he heard a big bang noise obviously coming from Sherlock's room.

"Sherlock?" he asked climbing the last steps in a hurry and throwing himself at the door, opening it in one quick movement.

He froze immediately when he found himself facing a half naked Sherlock "Oh!" he said "Sorry, ah, I thought, ah, heard a noise, ah sorry..." he mumbled dropping his eyes to the wooden floor and closing the door, a wild hotness invading his cheeks. He rushed to the kitchen searching for something to do to help him regain composure. Kettle, great, tea, good idea, perfect idea, tea, lovely.

_Why am I acting crazy like that? It's nothing, no big at all. Must be tired. Must be Sarah's foolish words_, he thought half smiling. He turned around to take the mug he usually left on the table and noticed the mess. There was broken glass on the table and a strange blue aqueous liquid dripping on the floor. A purple piece of fabric was tossed on the wooden floor. It was partly covered in the same blue liquid. John recognised it as one of Sherlock's shirts. He bent and tried to reach for it .

"Don't !" Sherlock had spoken in a loud and urgent voice "It's not something you want to touch with your bare skin, believe me I was close to do it myself ten minutes ago. Poor shirt, it didn't deserve that"

"And what is it supposed to be Sherlock?" John stood up his eyes still caught by the blue stain on the cloth probably expecting it to melt the floor or spontaneously combust.

"A new experiment." Sherlock smiled childishly.

"Are you going to clean this yourself or do I have to call for biohazard experts to come and burn the place to the ground ?" John raised anxious eyes to Sherlock.

"Tea?" was his only answer. He opened the cupboard and reached for mugs on the upper shelf. The three top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and it opened wide on his snow white skin when he moved. John caught a glimpse of it before turning to the kettle which was now whistling, lifting it in a movement quicker than necessary.

"What was the noise I heard earlier? By the way sorry for rushing in I was scared something happened."

Sherlock had tossed teabags in the mugs and was holding one in each hand. The table wasn't a safe place to put food or drink on so he held them while John poured water in them.

"I had some blue thing on my shoe as well so I threw it away, a little to violently I fear, it crashed on the wall close to the door. You're home, you can take you're coat off now." Sherlock said watching John's shoulders.

"Sorry what?" For an obscure reason John jumped a little while hearing Sherlock's last words which made boiling water splash on his flatmate's arms. John's eyes widened and with really quick movements, he took the mugs from Sherlock's hands, moved them to the sink, turned the cold water on and put Sherlock's forearms under the cold spray of water.

"Sorry Sherlock, so so sorry, I'm a bit edgy today, are you okay? Does it hurt?" he asked watching Sherlock's skin turning red under the cold water.

"I'm fine John, I didn't feel a thing." Sherlock said in his low calm voice. He was half bent over the sink, his face inches away from John's, he was staring at his friend's face with a blank expression.

John met Sherlock's eyes and remained petrified for what seemed to be a very long time but which should have been no more than a second or two and he resumed his fast movements, turning the water off, reaching for a dish towel and patting the tall man's arms with it to dry his skin.

"Well, I'm going to the bathroom, find ointment...for your arms. Be right back." John left the kitchen in a hurry. When he came back two minutes later, Sherlock was standing at the same spot.

"Give me your arms." Sherlock obliged and John spread ointment on the red areas on his flatmates forearms.

"You know it's not necessary, Doctor Watson, you can see there are no obvious burn marks, my skin reacted to the cold water, that's all." his voice was still low and calm which contrast with John's agitation.

"Better safe than sorry."

"You've been sorry since you came back to the apartment, you said it six time and you're under pressure, you had a bad day at work." it wasn't a question.

"Yeah, yes, it was a bad day." John sighed and smiled a little. "Need to relax, ah, what about take away Chinese and crap TV tonight?" John took off his coat, threw it on a chair and sat on the sofa with a loud whisper. "What about this morning, what does Lestrade want? Interesting case?"

"Nothing really interesting for you here, no patients, no hospital, no female co-worker. Just a boring murder case." Sherlock sat on an armchair an unpleasant look on his face, something between disgust and anger.

"Sherlock," John felt very tired. " I already told you..."

"Yes of course you did." the detective cut off abruptly "Take away Chinese would be lovely thank you."

"And you're going to eat?" John wasn't strong enough to argue, especially with a sarcastic Sherlock.

"Why not?"

"So you didn't take the case?"

"Took it, solved it."

"Told you you'd do fine." John smiled, Sherlock didn't.

Sherlock wasn't in his usual thinking position, close, but not the genuine one. Feet on the coffee table, knees up, elbows on his knees, hands joined, thumbs supporting his chin, a sleeping John's head resting on his shoulder.

The TV show was really boring and every five minutes Sherlock expressed his displeasure, sighing loudly or waving emphatically his hand in the TV's direction. John reacted at first telling him to have pity on Jethro Gibbs and his team, but, after a while, he just left the only consultant detective in the world perform for himself since he had fallen asleep.

"John, John you're snoring, wake up." Sherlock said shaking the doctor's arm lightly.

Without waking up, John turned his head and his upper body lost his balance. His shoulders slid on the leather and his head followed until it softly collide with Sherlock's shoulder. Reluctant to wake his stressed enough friend, Sherlock decided not to move for a moment and wait to see if he would wake up by himself.

He turned off the television and tried to occupy his time thinking adapting his thinking position to the situation.

Sherlock knew john was dreaming because his eyes were rolling in their sockets, his head rolled and his left hand was animated by spasmodic movements. Obviously it was a nightmare and the ex soldier's body started to shake.

"John, you're having a bad dream wake up..." A low grunt came from John's throat, he opened his eyes and got up in one nimble motion. He grabbed Sherlock's collar and pined him flat on the sofa, his left forearm across his neck and a knee crushing his thighs like he was responding to an attack. Sherlock felt John's breath on his face and froze.

"Sherlock?" he said in a hoarse voice "Oh my god, are you all right?" he moved his arm and knee and sat on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table.

"What happened?"

"You...hum...fell asleep watching TV and had a nightmare, when I tried to wake you up, you attacked me." He said turning his head in John's direction.

"Did I hurt you?" he added, anxiously stretching his hands in Sherlock's general direction without knowing where to check for injuries.

Was he stun or surprisingly in control, he just rolled his head from right to left knowing that even with such little light in the room his flatmate would see his answer.

John's hands hovered over Sherlock's chest and, since he wasn't hurt, they landed on his right arm. He pressed it gently. "I'm sorry, I was in Afghanistan again..." he looked around him surprised "Did I woke you?"

"No, I was here."

"What time is it?"

'I don't know."

"Sherlock, are you sure you're okay, can you sit?" he put his hands on his friend's shoulders, gently pulling to help him sit up but felt his reluctance to move.

Sherlock closed his hands on John's wrists. "I'm not hurt and I'm not in shock John." he searched for John's eyes "I'm perfectly fine." he added in a whisper releasing his grip on his friend's wrists, resting his hand lightly on his forearms.

"Okay then, I'm going to bed now. Sorry...again." John stood up slowly and left the room resisting the urge to ask one last time if Sherlock was okay, knowing perfectly well that he was in perfect physical condition. He made his way to his room trying to convince himself it was not Sherlock's erection he had felt brushing his stomach when he was pressed on his body in defensive posture.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! Thank you very much for your reviews and adding my story to your alerts. A special tanks to noondaysun for being my first reviewer (ever).  
>Angela-Bennet : ;)<br>LIGHTNSHADOWS: thanks :) , your answer is in this chapter ;)  
>OryonUK : No it's not wrong (or I'm a bad person too :p)<p>

Enjoy!

Chapter 2 - Some like it cold

John woke up slowly, it was still early but he couldn't sleep anymore, he rubbed his face with both hands and exhaled deeply.

He could feel something was wrong without knowing exactly what.

He put on his dressing gown and left his room.

Kitchen, kettle, usual.

He sat on the sofa to read the paper while sipping his tea. Something was still wrong but now he could see what had bothered him. The sound of water in the bathroom was constant since he woke up, maybe longer. He stood up and went to the bathroom door, listening closely.

"Sherlock? Are you in here?" he knocked at the door and got no answer "Sherlock? Sherlock I'm opening the door." he turned the doorknob and entered cautiously "Sherlock are you all right?" the shower curtain was drown, the water still running "Sherlock?" he pulled the curtain. Sherlock was in the bathtub, hand on the wall in front of him, back turned to John, his head under the spray of water. He was shivering, teeth chattering violently.

John took the closest towel "Sherlock, what are you doing?" since his flatmate wasn't answering, he turned off the water. Both hot and cold were turned on but the spray was freezing cold. He threw the towel over Sherlock's shoulders and started rubbing his arms and back. He searched for another one and found Sherlock's bathrobe "Sherlock, give me your arm, you have to put on your bathrobe. For god's sake Sherlock, what have you done?"

John climbed in the tub and kept on rubbing Sherlock's arms. He put his hand on the detective cheek to find it stone cold. He helped him out of the tub, closed the bath robe, dried his legs and feet. Since his hair was dripping he rubbed it too with a dry towel. "Come with me." he said leading his friend out of the bathroom.

John sat Sherlock on the sofa, covered him with a blanket from neck to toe and made tea. He sat on a chair in front of the frozen man and waited until he stopped shaking completely. Since he had found him on the bathtub, Sherlock hadn't watched John in the eyes once and now the doctor wanted his friend to look up at him.

"Sherlock, can you explain what happened?" he asked softly.

Sherlock kept silent, contemplating the mug he was holding with both hands as if it was the most difficult riddle in the world.

John laid his hands lightly on the detective's lap and leaned his head forward to encourage his friend to speak. Sherlock took a glimpse of John under his lashes.

"I...I wanted it to go away." he answered in a ghostly voice

"What? Sherlock, look at me, what did you want to go away?" John started to be scared

"This annoying thing, this..." he finally met John's eyes "Lately I've found myself having trouble dealing with disturbing thoughts," John squeezed Sherlock's knees lightly to show his support "thoughts about you John." he stopped talking to measure John's reaction, the doctor didn't move, waiting for his friend to resume his explanations."At first, I was upset by you being with this dull girlfriend of yours spending time doing whatever you've been doing. Then I started hating these patients of yours for keeping you away from...here...during the day. When I tried to understand why I was so upset, I failed to find a reasonable explanation. I had one in mind though."

"Sherlock..." the detective raised a hand to keep John from talking "Please...The most annoying thing wasn't in my mind. I found myself having physical disturbances too. I was terribly aware of your presence in a room, still am. Being close to you gives me goosebumps and every time you touch me I feel electricity run though my spine. Yesterday when you thought you burned my arms you brushed my skin, spread ointment on my forearms and it felt like a caress. I tried not to think about it, to take it for what it was, but I found myself being irrational. Then we spent the evening watching crap TV, I tried to watch the show to prevent my mind from over reacting once more but you fell asleep and slid on the couch, your head fell on my shoulder. We've spent hours like that, I tried to think, clear my thoughts once and for all. But you had a nightmare, I tried to wake you and you attacked me, your body so close to mine that it reacted in a way it never did before. I needed to touch you more but I knew it wasn't a thing to do without explaining and I couldn't explain anything. You left and I spent the night thinking about it. When the sun rose I was completely sure that, in spite of my massive intellect, I couldn't do anything about the disturbance you've created. And to be absolutely frank, I didn't want to do anything about that. The more I accepted...that, the more I wanted to be close to you, the more my body reacted. I came back to my senses though, but my body needed to stop burning so I went to the bathroom and took a shower. You found me there."

Silence fell in the room. The two men kept still. After long minutes John sighed and broke eye contact. He removed his hands from Sherlock's lap and rubbed his face.

"Sherlock..." he paused not sure of what to say "Sherlock...it's a lot...it's a lot to compile, " new pause "I..." John looked back to Sherlock's face and was shocked by the extreme fatigue he saw there. Oddly enough he was still holding his mug. John took it from him and put it on the coffee table. He lifted his left hand, kept it in the air for a second or two, then stretched it and brushed a still wet lock of hair from Sherlock's forehead. The detective closed his eyes like a lazy cat but didn't dare to move.

"I suppose I'll have to do without a shower today." John said smiling mildly "But I have to work this morning. Sherlock, can you please promise me to dress warm and eat something? Please?" Sherlock nodded absent-mindedly "Seriously, I'll be back in the afternoon, don't do silly experiments or take another shower until then." The detective lifted his eyes to his friend and nodded more convincingly this time.

John went up in his room and got dressed. When he got back to the kitchen, Sherlock was spreading butter on a half burned toast. He took it to his mouth and bit. John smiled and took his coat "Be back soon." he said.

He pushed the surgery's door, physically here but head on a blur and he passed Sarah without seeing her.

"John? Are you with us?" she asked

"What? Oh Sarah, sorry...did I miss something?" he remembered he was supposed to be angry with her, upset by their break-up but right now he didn't care. He didn't care about her...at all. He thought about Sherlock. He left him quite rapidly after their...no...not conversation...since his _confession_. He left him alone, glass on the kitchen table, blue, maybe radioactive, liquid still on the floor, his mind blurred, his feelings probably hurt.

"Sarah, would it be a problem if I came home right now, there is something I have to take care of and it's most urgent."

She opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it, John looked distressed. She nodded to signify it was okay with her.

"Thank you!" he said walking to the exit door.

He climbed the 221B Baker street stairs two step at the time, entered the living room in a hurry and was surprised to see Lestrade sitting in an armchair. Sherlock was on the sofa pictures in his hands.

"Oh sorry," he said "I didn't know you were here Lestrade. Hello." John felt silly. He looked at Sherlock. The man was quite shaken by his flatmate unexpected entrance but he regained composure almost immediately and Lestrade didn't notice a thing.

"Hello Doctor Watson, I came to see Holmes with a new challenge, since there are strange marks on the body, your medical experience may be helpful. If you don't mind, have a look at the picture, please." Lestrade looked tired, he explained the body had been found in a park in the middle of the night and he had been called at 3 in the morning and hadn't had the chance to sleep since then.

John sat next to Sherlock and he leaned over to watch the picture in the consultant detective's hand. the victim was a male, he was shirtless, skin white as chalk with blue bruises all over.

"Teeth marks," John said "I'd say adult mouth...it's strange...they are upside down as if the biter started on the shoulder and finished somewhere around the waist...but...there are dozens of them...can't say if it's post-mortem or not. Do you know the cause of death?" he asked.

"I don't have a lot of informations right now, overdose or heart attack, no blood. I came to see if Sherlock...and you, could come at the morgue this afternoon." Lestrade sighed, "might be really helpful."

John turned his head to look at Sherlock, he was still pale, he had found time to get dressed but hadn't had time to sleep.

"I'll text you." he said and put the picture back in the file.

Lestrade stood up, thanked the two men and took is leave. John watched as the policeman closed the door and turned back to Sherlock meeting his eyes.

"You should be at work." he said in a lifeless voice.

"I thought I had to be where I'm needed most." John looked at Sherlock's face with fervour.

"What changed?"

"Nothing," he moved closer, lifted his hand to cup Sherlock's cheek "It was already there."


	3. Chapter 3

Hi!

Once more thank you for reviewing and adding me to your alerts :)

Noondaysun : :)  
>Sadinly : thank you ^^<br>Miss Crookshanks : Is it fast enough for you ? :p

Warning : Slash  
>Disclamer: Don't own Sherlock nor John (if only...)<p>

Chapter 3 - Surrender

It was a moment to remember, Sherlock looked genuinely puzzled, John couldn't refrain from smiling as he put his other hand on the detective's waist and gently pulled him closer.

"Do you know what I am about to do?" he whispered, his face really close to Sherlock's.

"I do." Sherlock looked at John's mouth.

"Are you okay with this?" the blond haired man asked leaning closer.

"Yes." the detective whispered.

John brushed Sherlock's lips with his own lightly and the consultant detective stopped breathing "Relax" John said, he waited until the man in his arms started breathing normally again, then he kissed him a second time, a short kiss, light as a feather "close your eyes" he kissed him harder once, twice. Sherlock's hand moved to John's collar and grabbed his jumper. He was as tense as a violin string.

John's hand moved to Sherlock's hair. He lightly caressed the right side of his head to soothe him, and after a moment it seemed to work, so John went back to the kissing. He kissed the left corner of his mouth, then the right one "Sherlock have you done this before?" He shook his head, it was a no "It's easy, you just have to..." he kissed the upper lip "press like that..." the lower lips "and if it pleases you, you can..." he nipped Sherlock's lower lip with his teeth and bit lightly, drawing a sharp breath from the tall man "Or you can..." he ran his tongue along the area he had bitten.

Sherlock opened his eyes, he moved his hands, grabbed John's face and looked at his mouth intensely. Then he applied himself to kiss as he was told to, brushing, pressing, biting and licking. Judging by John's pulse and breath, he was a good student. He decided to make his own move and started kissing his way down to John's neck which he covered with dozens of kisses. The doctor sighed, both his hands were now tangled in Sherlock's hair. He pulled him back to his mouth kissing him hard. He ran his tongue along the brown haired man's lower lip. "Allow me in..." he said breathlessly and then resumed his licking. Sherlock opened his mouth and John slid his tongue in it. They both moaned. They kept kissing tongues duelling until they needed to breathe.

"That was..." John tried to speak, they had their foreheads pressed together breathing loudly "...something."

"John?" Sherlock's voice was unsteady, which alarmed John.

"Yes? What is it?"

"John...my body's reacting again." the detective was ill at ease, the kissing had aroused him more than he was comfortable with. Much to his surprise John kissed him again, eagerly, biting almost painfully and Sherlock moaned in pleasure.

"What about now?" John asked in a whisper then he started to nip the excited man's neck feeling his own arousal raising. Sherlock felt dizzy, he grabbed John's waist with both hands to steady himself.

"I am going too fast, sorry. It's the first time I kiss a man, I shouldn't be this audacious, but, I don't know why, with you it seems so right. Do you want me to stop for now?" John was almost shocked by how easy the words came out of his mouth.

"No, please, don't stop." Sherlock tightened his grip on John's waist.

John growled and pushed Sherlock until he laid flat on his back on the sofa following him so he laid above him supporting his weight with his right arm. He looked at Sherlock's face, brushed locks of hair from his forehead and cupped his right cheek. The detective turned his head and kissed the doctor's palm, he whispered and kissed him back along his jawline up to his ear taking his earlobe between his teeth sucking it gently.

Sherlock closed his eyes and moaned again, it felt so good and was so frustrating at the same time. His body was taking control and as good as it felt he didn't like it. It had been days since he hadn't spent an hour without thinking about john, his eyes, lips, smell, it was intoxicating, intolerable. He opened his eyes, John was working on his neck, he pushed him without warning.

"What is it Sherlock, what's wrong?" John looked puzzled.

Now that he could see the doctor's face Sherlock's wish to get free of his arms vanished.

"John," he lifted his hands to the doctor's chest "I'm quite lost. My body wants you to do whatever you want to me but my brain won't shut up."

"What does it say?"

"It wants to keep control."

John stared at Sherlock, face blank.

"I may have an idea..." he finally said and slid from the sofa to the floor, he got up and stretched his hand in invitation. Sherlock looked surprised but took the hand. John lifted him up, kissed his lips softly and took his place on the sofa.

"From now on, you lead. I'll lay here, I won't push you. You can think. You can act. But don't worry whatever you choose to do, I won't leave unless you ask me to." he said resting his arms along his body.

Sherlock looked at John's face, he had closed his eyes, his breath was calm, he seemed to be asleep but wasn't. The detective stood there for a while, thinking, thinking in spite of his aching body, in spite of the man laying five inches from him, the man he craved for, the man who made his thinking less efficient.

_What am I supposed to do? H_e thought to himself_. Can I be with him and be myself? I know he has made an important move by choosing to kiss me, to touch me instead of this Sarah girl. Him, the straight proud soldier. But I am the only consultant detective in the world, there's only one brain like mine, I can't let my desire cloud my reasoning. I can't deny that I provoked this, I told him the words that made him decide to turn to me. Oh Sherlock you are thinking wrong. Seems you don't even try..._

"John, may I ask you questions?"

"You may." John answered without opening his eyes, he knew that once Sherlock's brain was focused on something it was impossible to make it stop and since it had reacted to the making out, situation he expected to have to answer questions.

"Would you accept me for what I am?"

"I already do, may not always agree with you, but I don't try to change you."

Sherlock nodded and continued "Why do you accept me, kiss me, caress me?"

"Because I want to, need to actually."

"Need?"

"I've felt the urge to do it, since you told me you wanted me, I had to think about it, I sorted it out surprisingly fast."

"How? How could you sort this out that fast?"

John smiled. "As silly as it seems, since the day we've met there's been a kind of bond between us," he smiled wider, "not love at first sight, Sherlock, I'm not into this romantic crap. Being flatmate, helping you in your work, all of this was so obvious for me, but it also was for you. You judged me in ten seconds." another smile "Having...feelings for you" Sherlock frowned "is something I hadn't thought possible. I knew I needed to protect you, to be sure nobody would hurt you, even yourself, but...lately it became obvious that I needed your company more than anybody's else. Sarah decided to turn her attention to another man and I realized I didn't care at all. You have told me you wanted me and I realized I wanted you too."

"Sarah dumped you?"

"No, I let her go, didn't fight for her, but, is it the only thing I've said you're going to pay attention to?"

"Why can't I think when you're around?"

"How do you feel, Sherlock?"

"I don't feel."

"Yes you do." there was a significant silence "How do you feel Sherlock?"

"I can't think."

"Why?"

"Because you're everywhere John, you intoxicate me, you blur my mind."

"How do you feel Sherlock?" John asked for the third time

"I feel overwhelmed, I feel the urge to touch you and now kiss you, I feel I'm enslaving myself to my body's needs, because of you."

"Are you angry?"

"With myself. "

"What do you need to feel better?"

"Think straight again..." Sherlock knelt in a slow and quiet movement "and have you" he kissed John's mouth eagerly.

The doctor reacted instantly. He opened his eyes, grabbed Sherlock's head and buried his fingers in his hair, then he reluctantly pushed the detective's face away from his. "Are you done thinking?" he asked in a whisper.

"No I'm not, but I made my decision, since I can't let you go, I'll have to find a way to be with you and restore my thinking abilities. You were right, it was an easy and surprisingly fast decision to make" He took John's face in his hands and pulled it to kiss him again. John put his hands on Sherlock's waist, stroking lightly.

"John...I lead remember?" The doctor removed his hands and lay them back where they were, it was frustrating, but he had promised.

Sherlock nipped John's neck with his teeth until he was stopped by the collar of his jumper. "Annoying" he said. His hands travelled along John's ribcage, down to his waist, then grabbed the bottom of the jumper, lifting it slowly to make completely obvious he wanted to strip it from John's body. He pulled and he passed John's head but left his arms imprisoned in it up above his head.

"Don't move" he said grinning, John looked uncomfortable but did nothing to free himself.

Sherlock locked eyes with him and moved slowly to lay above the doctor's body in the fashion they were earlier. He lifted John's shirt and without losing eye contact bent his head to kiss the other man's belly. John drew in a sharp breathe and Sherlock smiled. He decided to lick his way up unbuttoning the shirt along the way. First he dipped his tongue in John's bellybutton then kissed and lazily licked the white skin. John's eyes rolled in their sockets, breath shallow, he lifted his shoulders from the sofa, arms still trapped above his head, but Sherlock pushed him back. He resumed his kissing getting closer to John's neck button after button. Finally the shirt was completely open. Sherlock stopped his ministrations for a moment to watch John's body, he was breathing heavily and his chest rose and fell fast. The skin was white except for the two pink nipples. Sherlock touched one and it hardened under his finger, he pinched it and John moaned "How do you feel, John?" Sherlock asked staring intently at the man's eyes "How does it feel when I do that" he asked while squeezing the same nipple and John moaned again "It obviously feels good" he managed to say, his voice unsteady. Sherlock pinched the other nipple, it had the same effect on the man below him. Then he bent his head to suck alternatively on each nipple, he licked, John moaned, he sucked, John moaned, he bit, John moaned, definitely a highly sensitive area.

Sherlock's body wasn't the only one to respond now. Sherlock rested his lower body on John's pressing their hard ons together. It felt so good that the detective clenched his jaws and growled. John couldn't help but roll his hips, Sherlock stopped him, pressing heavier on the doctor's body.

"Sherlock..." John was breathless

"Yes john?" Sherlock's voice was deep, deeper than ever, and John shivered.

John tried to kiss Sherlock but the detective dodged and rolled his hips, John's head fell back on the sofa.

"Sherlock, do it again please." he obliged and John cried.

The detective took John's lips, kissing fiercely, possessively, rubbing his body against the doctor's.

"Are you mine, John ?" he asked against his lips kissing once more with the same rage.

"I'm yours...if you're mine." Sherlock eyes dived in John's. "Oh yes I'm yours." he knew it was true, it was true because it was John, it couldn't have been anyone else, he trusted him, with his life.

Sherlock freed John's arms from his jumper so the man could move.

"May I?" the doctor asked eyes locked on Sherlock's chest.

"Whatever you want." the detective nodded and John griped his hips to steady himself while he sat. Then he stripped Sherlock of his shirt and grazed his skin with his short nails from his collarbone to his waist and back and again but with a trail of lingering kisses.

Sherlock observed John's actions, dissecting every move, connecting them to the sensations they induced in him. _My lover is kissing my chest and it burns_, he thought. _My lover is dipping his tongue in my bellybutton, it makes me shiver_. It was so strange to think of this word: _lover_. It was far from a childish boyfriend, or a rather professional colleague. He had used this word often but it was almost every time about the adulterous relationships of dead people he was investigating about. Since he never had one, he never used it to pet name somebody.

"Lover?" he whispered and he looked surprised by the sound of the word said out loud. John lifted his head, he seemed equally surprised. "Yes Sherlock, I'm your lover, we are lovers...or soon will be." he lifted his hand till he reached the back of his neck and tugged to kiss him lovingly and deep. Sherlock stroked John's back, holding him as close as possible.

John watched Sherlock's face through his lashes, his hands sled along his side and stopped at his belt. The detective sighed when he felt his belt loosen, soon after his pants slid around his thighs just enough to free him, he still had his shorts on though. John caressed Sherlock's buttocks through the fabric of his shorts but found it frustrating so he pulled his lover's underwear down and touched his bare skin.

"Sherlock can you sit down please?"

The detective eyes widened, was it over? Was john about to leave? He looked at his face and what he saw calmed his, highly irrational, fear. John's pupils were dilated, his mouth was red and wet, he was dishevelled and his breath was short, he was really, really, aroused. Sherlock managed to stand up, freeing John's legs. He peeled his pants and shorts from himself so he was completely naked. John moved and stood up too, he gestured to invite his man to sit, and he obliged. Then he removed his shirt and pants and kneeled in front of sherlock, he put his hands on his knees and pushed gently to part his legs. Then he moved closer to him.

"Sherlock there is something I'd like to do to you, I know you've never been touched like that and if it's too much for you, you have to tell me. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes, John, I'm okay with that." _Whatever you want John but keep going please,_ he thought.

John put his hands on Sherlock's belly then moved his finger lower in an agonisingly slow motion and, suddenly, he wrapped his left hand around his lover's erected cock. Sherlock groaned and caught John's shoulders, squeezing them painfully. The doctor was about to release his grip when he heard his man's plea. "Keep going please" So he did as he was told and moved his hand up and down, slowly moving around the velvety skin. He bent his head, his lips parted and his tongue darted out as he licked the tip of Sherlock's cock. The detective shivered from head to toe and groaned loudly. John took him in his mouth, his hand still wrapped at the base of Sherlock's erection, and sucked.

Sherlock was on fire, he felt his cheeks reddening, his body temperature raised. The pressure John inflicted on his lower abdomen hurt him but pleased him even more he didn't want him to stop but he knew he was about to come.

"John..." he warned and his lover stopped licking but kept moving his left hand, speeding up his pace. Sherlock found his release shouting John's name, his body shaken by violent spasms. John gripped his hips to steady him once more.

A short moment later Sherlock's head had rolled back, his mouth was open, his eyes closed, he was covered with sweat and sperm and out of breath. John mooved on his knees and the detective opened his eyes, he tried to move but found he had no more bones, metaphorically speaking, of course.

"Come here lover." Sherlock asked in a whisper and John sat close to him. The detective managed to move to cup his lover's left cheek and leaned to kiss him lazily, he let his other hand run down John's body.

"I think there is something you need." Sizing John's cock he mimicked john's earlier actions pumping slowly. The doctor gasped and Sherlock used the diversion to take his mouth, he had no more strength to kiss hard so he just did it tenderly. A short moment later John moaned loudly in Sherlock's mouth as he came.

They stayed where they were, wrapped in each other's arms, unable to move. John's head was resting on Sherlock's chest and he felt his first words more than heard them.

"Hum?" He twisted his neck to watch the detective's face "Sorry what did you say?"

"I said thank you." Sherlock crooned. John was amazed, did he really hear Sherlock thank him for having sex with him?

"What for?" he asked to be sure

.

"For what just happened."

"So, I have to thank you back."

They both laughed.

They didn't laugh when they remembered that, thanks to Sherlock, there was no hot water for the rest of the day. They took cold and - very - quick showers.

When John came back fully dressed in the living room, he found Sherlock sitting in his thinking position wearing only a towel. He frowned thinking that it was the first time the detective took this kind of liberty.

"John, take your shirt off." Sherlock ordered abruptly as he stood up.

"What?" John asked. The detective was already in front of him.

"Your shirt...Please?" Had Sherlock asked politely? He looked extremely serious though, Not a time for jokes or other things. John looked at him and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Lay on the floor." it was an order again. John wasn't pleased to follow orders but since Sherlock had his look, the consultant detective one, he knew he had to obey, but he made a mental note to complain later. Sherlock knelt close to John's head, he drew his mouth near the doctor's shoulder and bit hard.

John jumped and bumped his head on the coffee table" Sherlock what are you doing?" he shouted "That hurt !"

"Post mortem." he said for himself

"Sherlock!" John shouted again "I am NOT a lab rat !"

The consultant detective was up now, pictures of the dead body in his hand "No-marks-no-bruises-not-tied-up-no-blood-definitely-not-cannibalism-not-sexual" he said so fast that it was almost gibberish, he was completely excited, his brain was working fast and well.

A furious John stormed out of the living room and rushed down the stairs. He slammed the door loudly on his way out, yes it was childish, but it felt good at the moment. He turned right, didn't know why, he needed air, he needed to calm down. Sherlock had never used him as a crash test dummy before, it was a first, another first of the day, and not the one he wanted to be thinking about right now. Thankfully the victim didn't throw himself under a train. _I should sleep with a gun under my cushion just in case Sherlock wants to observe the result of the fall from a second floor window of a 5' 7" doctor in the middle of the night_. He couldn't help laughing at the thought, a bitter laugh though. He had made a pretty dramatic exit, hoping Harry would never know that, she was the drama queen of the family, he never thought he could compete with her for the crown.

John was in Regent's Park now walking wherever his feet wanted to lead him. Didn't he over-react? _No. Yes. No_. He decided he didn't. I_s your lover, a man who is supposed to be obsessed by you, supposed to use you as a doll to solve crime? No. Is it normal he hurts you, physically_ (and emotionally but he didn't want to ask that even to himself), _and doesn't apologize, doesn't even notice anything? No_. Ok he was sure he was right to feel bad about what happened. Sherlock had asked him if he would take him as he was, and he did, but now a line had been crossed.


	4. Chapter 4

Angel-Castiel : *^^* Thank you so much...I'm blushing  
>Miss Crookshanks : sexy time in this chapter too (but drama first!)<br>The Science Of Seduction : :-) I wouldn't say no to Sherlock either ;-)  
>FoxyWolfyPlushie : there will be another chapter after this one (a short one), and it will be the last for this story, but I have another one in mind :-)<p>

Once again thank you for your support!  
>Don't be shy and review :)<p>

**Here comes the chapter 4.**  
><strong>Enjoy!<strong>

Chapter 4 - Don't let me be misunderstood

_Where is he?_

_It's been hours since he burst out._

_I've been to the crime scene, alone. I've solved the case, the undertaker case, good name for his blog._

_I've texted him twelve times. _

_I need him to come back._

_I want him home._

_Now._

2:03 pm "Come back. Crime scene's waiting. SH"

2:07 pm "Hurry. Needed at the crime scene now. SH"

2:14 pm "On my way. Meet me there. SH"

2:15 pm "Could be dangerous. SH"

2:21 pm "You are missing all the fun. SH"

2:48 pm "Where are you? SH"

5:55 pm "I'm home waiting for you. SH"

6:28 pm "Something happened? Where are you? SH"

6:44 pm "John, you scare me. Answer me please. SH"

7:06 pm "John I miss you. SH"

8:01 pm "Come back. Please. SH"

8:39 pm "Please. SH"

It was almost midnight when John opened the 221B Baker street's door. He climbed the stairs slowly. He didn't know what he would find inside and was not impatient to know. He came back, he had to, he wasn't as irritated as he was when he left but he still could feel anger burning in his stomach. He pushed the apartment's door, mind blurred by unwelcome thought when he saw a flash of brown curls and someone was wrapping himself around him, holding him so close he couldn't breath. Thankfully his brain connected the sensation with Sherlock's body or his answer could have been really aggressive. He felt kisses on his cheeks, eyebrows and nose.

"Worry...why...where...John...John" he heard. Sherlock seemed distressed. It felt wrong.

"Sherlock..." he couldn't say more since his mouth was taken in a burning kiss by the mad man who was holding him.

"Where have you been?" the detective whispered before kissing him again "I was worried sick, it was unbearable."

"Sherlock..." he tried to loosen the grip around his arms but Sherlock didn't let him.

"I've left you messages." His eyes where mad, his face paler than ever and John felt bad for causing such distress.

"Sherlock," he said, his voice louder and steadier, "Sherlock calm down please. "The detective froze and his bright blue eyes locked with the doctor green one's. John felt dizzy for a second but kept his resolution to talk to Sherlock even if he didn't know exactly how to phrase his thoughts now that he was in front of him. He pushed against Sherlock's chest once more and he loosened his grip a little.

"What is it John." Sherlock's voice was cold and the doctor felt ill at ease.

"Sherlock, why did I leave earlier?" he finally managed to ask.

"You...you were upset?" He looked puzzled, as if he just realised the fact "Why were you upset John?"

John felt the ball of anger in his stomach but refrained from letting it out. Sherlock called himself a sociopath, it wasn't without reason "Yes, I was upset, can you remember why?"

"I asked you to help me, I needed data about the bites and..."

"No you didn't." John cut off.

"What?" Sherlock looked puzzled again, definitely a wrong expression to see on his face.

"You didn't ask."

"I asked you to take off your shirt and lay on the floor."

"That's not asking, that's ordering." Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but didn't, he was thinking.

"Do you remember biting me hard, do you remember I told you you were hurting me?"

Sherlock's eyes opened wide. "I hurt you?" He tried to unbuttoned John's shirt to be sure he didn't leave a mark but John took his hands.

"Do you remember?"

The detective's face was blank. "No...No I don't." suddenly he freed his hands and stepped back from John. He was struggling with his thoughts.

"Sherlock?" John got no answer, the detective was lost in his thoughts, lips moving, eyes unfocused "Sherlock look at me." he put his hands on each side of the brown-haired man's face and caught his eyes "Sherlock I'm here."

"But you were gone." Sherlock's eyes filled with tears. God when did he become over sensitive like that?

"Had to calm down."

"You are mad at me?" Teardrops fell from Sherlock's eyes. _Sherlock is crying, for god sake, he is actually crying_. John pulled Sherlock closer and kissed his wet lips and then licked the tears of his cheek.

"Sherlock stop crying." he laughed nervously "Never thought I would say that in my life"

"Are you mad at me?" the tall brown man asked again sniffing loudly

"I was and somewhere inside me I still am. We have to talk about things, important things, at least for me." Sherlock nodded frantically. "Whatever you want John"

John sighted, if Sherlock was about to react so erratically all the time it wouldn't be an easy conversation.

"Let's sit on the sofa."

They sat face to face, Sherlock lifted his red-rimmed eyes to look at John sheepishly, and the doctor felt like the bogeyman. _Oh no Sherlock I'm not at fault here you won't make me feel bad_, he thought.

"Sherlock..." maybe, I should forbid myself from beginning each phrase with his name, maybe I should refrain myself from wanting to hold him, maybe...

"This morning I was very happy," he said and Sherlock frowned not liking the past tense "You showed me you could have feelings." _past tense_ "Our relationship changed," _stop that _"for the best," _thank you_ "but only half an hour later you did something..." _I'm so sorry_ "hurtful." Sherlock's eyes widened, he looked miserable "It felt so bad..." John's voice trailed off.

After a short silence he cleared his throat and spoke again. "You used me as part of one of your experiments." He searched Sherlock eyes and found them, he was listening, processing "Sherlock I may be yours but I'm not an object. It was the first time, and the last time. I told you I didn't want to change you, it's still true since you've never done this before," he let the words sink in Sherlock's brain "Do you understand what I've said? Have I been clear?"

A minute passed before the detective nodded, John realized he had stopped breathing and gasped. Sherlock cupped his cheek.

"John," he said, his voice calm and clear "I am sorry, really sorry. I can't erase what happened but I can explain to you what was in my mind at this time, it may not be comforting or anything but since you told me how you felt I have to do the same." He moved his hands to seize John's "As you know, I value my intellect more than anything, without my brain I'm nothing, without it I'd die." John flinched "When I found I couldn't help myself thinking about you even when I tried." John freed his hands from Sherlock's, another childish reaction he noted "I found myself weakened," John frowned, the ball of anger in his stomach jumped, "but, John, it was overwhelming. At this time I didn't know what to do with it, when you found me in the bathroom I told you what I was going through and you left," John opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock stopped him "and came back an hour later. An hour during which my head was about to explode. You came back and I didn't have time to think properly. And I let you kiss me and I switched off my brain and pledged myself to you..." John got up abruptly and the ball went out of his throat.

"Are you telling me that you weren't in you right mind," he shouted "are you telling me I forced you, took advantage of you?" he grabbed his own hair with both hands in frustration.

"No I'm trying to explain the state of mind I was in but.."

"Did you think about me, about my state of mind? About what I was and still am going through?" John was hysterical

"John..."

"Following you, assist you and being the dumb guy behind the genius..."

"John you're not..." Sherlock got up.

"Of course I am." John took a step back "When you experimented on me you proved I was nothing more than a piece of junk." Him who thought that Sherlock was over reacting...

"John stop it !" Sherlock shouted too.

"So tell me, if I'm not a lab rat, what am I?" He asked pain distorting his face.

"You are the man I love John, that's who you are." Sherlock crossed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around his lover. "Don't say you're junk, don't ever say you're junk. You're the most human and sensitive person I've ever met, you touched me, you made...you made me feel, for real, I'm not used to it, it's completely new, I have to adjust, to find a balance, obviously I did wrong earlier, but I never meant to hurt you, that's what I wanted to say, you didn't let me finish." He loosened his embrace just to gaze at John's face. The man looked stun. "I love you." Sherlock repeated to make sure he was heard.

"How..." John whispered.

"Oh shut up!" Sherlock passionately kissed the man he loved and soon found him responsive. Sherlock pushed John back to the closest wall and kissed him again. His hands were under his shirt scratching his hips while he pressed his body against the doctor's.

John was trapped, even though he could free himself by force if he wanted to, and he surely didn't. He let his man have his way under his shirt and in his mouth. Sherlock had told him he loved him. _Sherlock loves me_ he thought to himself. He felt another ball in his stomach but this one was made of butterflies. He pushed in Sherlock's embrace and the detective surprisingly misinterpreted John's intentions holding him tighter to prevent an escape.

"Don't go John, please." he said his head buried in John's neck. The doctor freed his arms and felt Sherlock's body stiffen.

He entangled his fingers in Sherlock's hair and lifted his head so he could lock eyes with the light blue ones. The pain and confusion he saw there were heartbreaking.

"Sherlock I don't want to go anywhere, especially if it's far from you." He paused waiting for the idea to sink in Sherlock's mind, the idea and what it implied, but thought it was safer to add "for at least the rest of the night I don't want you farthest than a few inches from me," he stretched to kiss his lover's lips.

"And tomorrow?" Sherlock asked still insecure.

"Sherlock I...I won't leave you...ever." He knew it was a promise full of consequences but he meant it and he wanted to chase the last trace of fear from his lover's eyes. "Do you understand what I say? Do you trust me?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded and relaxed a little, "So, a few inches..." he said sex in his voice. God this man could change his mood so fast it was almost scary, but this voice... John kissed Sherlock again and managed to reverse their positions, this time it was him pushing the brown-haired man against the wall. Sherlock growled loudly and pulled at John's shirt so strongly that he tore out the buttons witch rolled on the floor. John caught Sherlock's hips. "Bedroom?" Sherlock nodded "Yours?" A second nod. John led the taller man as he walked backwards. It took a little while since John kept on kissing Sherlock lips. The detective opened his bedroom's door and soon found himself flat on his back on the mattress feet still on the floor.

Shirt for shirt, he heard the buttons of his own fall in every corners of the room. Cold air brushed his skin for a second before being replace with the warmth of John's chest hovering over him.

The doctor kicked his shoes and socks off and sat astride Sherlock's lap, knees on the bed on each side of the man behind him. He stopped moving to watch the detective's face, lips, neck, chest, belly as if trying to choose where to start. He growled and went for the left earlobe and sucked and bit. He used one arm to lift himself and keep his balance while the other one trailed down Sherlock's chest.

"Is there anything specific you'd want me to do to you?" he whispered in Sherlock's ear.

"No, I mean... John you're the first person I allow to touch me this way. I don't have enough data to give you my preferences."

"Let's give you data then," he said "and by the way if you think you need more data about me, you have my permission to investigate."

John went for Sherlock's neck and bit hard and the brown-haired man gasped.

"John? Since I have the right to investigate..."

"Hum?" he was kissing his jawline now

"Won't you tell me you love me?"

"No," he said to his cheekbone before kissing it. If Sherlock thought he would disconcert him, he'd have to think twice.

"Why?" the detective cupped John's face to stop him and catch his eyes "Why?" he asked again unhappy to repeat himself.

"Because I don't want you to make me say it. When I'll say it, it will come from me."

"But you do love me ?" Although Sherlock's expression was unchanged, John could feel another wave of insecurity crashing in the detective's mind, it was really disturbing to see how he could be confused when it came to feelings, especially his own, his brand new feelings. "Don't you?"

"Would I do this if I didn't?" he kissed the brown-haired man feverishly.

Sherlock moved his hand to the back of John's head and slid his tongue in his mouth. His other hand was peeling his lover's shirt from his shoulders, pulling it out of his pants and throwing it on the floor. The detective wriggled on the bed and John followed, his mouth still connected with his man's. Suddenly Sherlock rolled them over.

"I think I like being on top," he said, a smile in his voice.

"How come it doesn't surprise me?" John panted, he was terribly aware of Sherlock's body pressing heavily between his legs.

Sherlock's right hand travelled along John's ribs and stopped at his waist, then he lifted himself to allow his hand to creep on John's belly and lower to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants buttons. The brown-haired man slowly pulled the pants down and John eased his way. He was now laying on his back with only his shorts...oh...now he was naked.

"Sherlock, that's not fair!" John sighed. Sherlock grinned and took off his shirt "Do you prefer that?" he asked as he pressed his lips on his lover's collarbone. John seized Sherlock's arse with both his hands and pulled him closer "I much prefer that but it's not enough." he added.

Sherlock rolled his hips and John moaned shamelessly loud.

"I like making you moan like this." the detective said rolling his hips again "And I like how...it makes me...feel."

Sherlock locked eyes with John "You do what nobody ever did John. You wake me from my sleep. I'm not sure I'll always be thankful for that because I think our bond will change lots of things and, as you know, I'm quite attached to my independence, especially when it comes to my brain, but we've already talked about that. The fact is I want you more than anything, I want you to be in my life and in my bed. I love you. Don't ask me how I, a sociopath, can say I love someone. It must be the first consequence of what you do to me, maybe it is the cause. For the first time in my life I don't want to over think, I just want to feel. Thank you John."

John was overwhelmed. He remembered the last time Sherlock had thanked him, he understood what it had meant, how important it was. He felt his vision blur and tears rolling from his eyes.

"Look what you do to me." John said.

"Are you sad ?" Sherlock asked quite alarmed

"No sherlock, I'm happy." he put one hand on the small of the brown man's back and the other behind his shoulder and pulled him until his upper body fully laid on his own "I'm like you Sherlock, I don't know what is happening to me, I only know that I want it, I want you and I want to be with you. So long for the _not into romantic crap_ hey?" he giggled " anyway, I know it won't be easy, I expect some memorable arguments but I know we belong with each other, we are meant to be. Oh God that sounds cheesy." he giggled again but Sherlock's look stopped him.

"No, that sounds perfect." he said before kissing his lover's lips to signify that the talking was over.

John moved his hand from Sherlock's back to his waistband and slid it inside his pants and shorts to touch the soft skin of his buttocks. He growled and his other hand grabbed locks of brown hair pulling Sherlock's head closer, as close as he could without crushing his skull. He was full of lust for the man over him, it was scary and felt so good at the same time, it was giving in or run away. He gave in.

He rolled them another time and stripped Sherlock of his pants and shorts. Then he closed his mouth around him.

Sherlock's back arched and a low growl left his throat when he came in John's mouth. The doctor crawled along his lover's body and rested his head on his shoulder. He felt his heartbeat resounding in his chest and his jerky breath. He waited until the after effects of the orgasm faded. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and pulled him up to kiss his mouth, tasting himself on his lover's tongue.

His fingers ran up his back , caressed his neck, then he rolled John over to make him lay on his back. He kissed his way down John's body and parted his legs to sit between them. He bent over John's groin and paused there, eyes locked on his erect cock.

John didn't want Sherlock to do anything he didn't really want just to keep up with the rhythm he had chosen for them. "Sherlock you don't have to...OH GOD!".

The detective had taken John's full length in his mouth. He moved his head slowly, his right hand brushed John's balls and the blond man moaned. He moved his head faster and his tongue swirled around the pulsing cock. John knew he was close and gripped Sherlock's hair to warn him "Sherlock...". The brown-haired man locked eyes with his lover and moved a little faster. John's head rolled back as he came shouting his lover's name.

Sherlock watched his man's release with fascination and swallowed.

"I like it when you scream my name," he said while moving to lay along John's body. "I like your face when you come," he added kissing John's neck "and, I like your taste." He kissed his lips.

"You have data now." John panted.

"Need more," he purred, "I'll always need more."

They laid in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, legs entwined.

"The undertaker case," Sherlock said in the dark knowing that John wasn't asleep.

"What?" John said in a thick voice.

"You didn't ask about the case, the teeth marks case." The detective added

"Sherlock, we didn't have time for that." The blond man giggled. "So, what about this case?"

"I named it for you, for your blog."He kissed the top of John's head. "The man found in the park, you asked if he had had an attack. He had one, a heart attack. And he died." He paused for the sake of the dramatic effect. "A simple heart attack. But somebody saw him fall. A homeless man living in the park. He tried to help but didn't know how to revive him so he just punch the man's chest, which explains the bruises on the body. He was a man with no education but he knew something, something he remembered from his childhood's days in front of the TV. He knew how to recognise a living person from a dead one, he knew how the undertakers did to be sure. They bit the bodies. He bit the body lots of times because it was the only thing he could do. Then he left, he didn't want anybody to believe he killed the man. The police found him and took his teeth prints. He was still in the park, because he had nowhere to go."

"It's a sad story." John said. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing, he didn't kill anybody."

"Were is he now?"

"I don't know."

Both their phones rang at the same time to announce an incoming text.

John swore. "It's past three in the morning, who could text us in the middle of the night?" He reluctantly move to search in their pants pockets, all their clothes were on the floor, it took him a minute or two to find them. He came back in bed and tried to resume his position. They both read their message, the same message.

"Be at your place at ten in the morning. Be fully dressed. Both of you. Please. MH"

Sherlock sighed.

"How..." John said, "No, really I don't want to know."


	5. Chapter 5

Once again thanks!

The Science Of Seduction : Don't cry :) even if it's the last chapter ;)

Miss Crookshanks : Yes he is... (my favorite scene of the show is when John meets Mycroft for the first time and show how strong he is especially in situation of stress – Gatiss is really good and Freeman even better – Bafta!)

Bgranger1990 : Thank you! Angst is really fun to write :)

smiles2go : I love your avatar ;)

So here it is, the final chapter.

It is the shortest of my story but I thought ending here was a good idea.

Let me know what you think about it. R&R

**Thank you!**

Chapter 5 - Addicted to love

After a long shower during which Sherlock collected more data about John, they got dressed and the doctor tried to make tea with Sherlock glued to his back kissing and licking his neck.

"Sherlock, I'm going to burn you, for real this time, be careful," John said pretending his man was getting on his nerves, but couldn't refrain himself from chuckling when Sherlock licked his left ear.

"No you won't," he crooned in his ear, John shivered, "and if you do I know you will spread ointment on my skin like you did before." God this man was insatiable.

Suddenly Sherlock's body tensed, he dropped his arms along his body, took a step back from John and sighed. The blond man turned his head a little surprised but understood what was happening when he heard footsteps in the stairs. It was 10 sharp when Mycroft entered the living room.

"Hello, Sherlock," he said with a sharp nod, an obsequious smile hung to his lips, "John." second nod.

"Mycroft," Sherlock said nodding back, his voice cold as steel.

John felt ill at ease, he was still holding the kettle. "We were about to have tea, would you like some?" He said to lighten up the atmosphere.

"No, thank you." Mycroft opened his jacket and sat on a chair, Sherlock clenched his jaws but came to sit opposite his brother on the sofa. John poured water in their mugs and followed the general movement. He put the mugs down on the coffee table and sat next to Sherlock. Mycroft smiled slightly.

"So?" Sherlock voice was sharper than ever. Mycroft smiled again, god it was irritating.

"My dear brother, is that unthinkable that I can come to chat." Smile, and smile and smile again

"Not after your 3 am text, no." Sherlock's eyes were almost predatory.

"John," he looked at the doctor, "what do you think you are doing with my brother?" Sherlock stood up abruptly, he looked furious and about to throw his brother through the window. John grabbed his wrist and squeezed it lightly and the brown-haired man accepted to watch him. He relaxed a little.

"Whatever I do with your brother is none of you business, Mycroft. You have no right to stick your nose into my life, I'll let Sherlock give his opinion about his own but I'm pretty sure he is not happy about it either," John said trying to remain as calm as possible. His hand moved from Sherlock's wrist to his hand and the detective entwined their fingers.

"John," Mycroft leaned over, he was absolutely unimpressed, "how long, have you known my brother? Weeks. You don't know how he was before you met him. Have you ever seen him crawl, John?" He paused and Sherlock's grip on John's hand tightened. "Have you ever seen him half dead on the floor of a dirty basement with enough drugs in his vein to knock him out for days? Being a sociopath doesn't prevent him from hurting, whatever he may say about it, and his way to make it _disappear_ is quite dangerous"

"And what are you suggesting, Mycroft? Are you saying that I'm going to hurt him? Do you think I'm toying with your brother in order to make him fall again? Sherlock's a sociopath, it's no news." He turned his head to speak directly to the detective "You are a sociopath and you don't cope well with feelings, we've already sorted this out haven't we?" Sherlock nodded "So Mycroft," he looked in Sherlock's brother's direction again and met his eyes "I am no cure for anything, and certainly no cure for Sherlock's past whatever it is made of. What I am is John Watson, if it's enough for your brother you'll have to deal with it."

"I'll always show concern for my brother, I love him" he said watching his brother to see the impact of his words, the detective didn't move but a sparkle flashed in his eyes.

"Don't think you are the only one," John replied.

"Sherlock found himself the perfect companion, not that I doubted you were a good man John." Mycroft got up and buttoned his jacket. "Have a good day." He smiled again but this time it looked real, then he was gone.

"Right," John sighed "I think I passed the test." Sherlock sat next to him, he seemed quite shaken. John cupped his face with his other hand. "What is it Sherlock?"

"The things he said, about, what I do when I'm...in pain."

"He used this to test me, Sherlock." John tried to catch his lover's eyes.

"But it was true."

"Sherlock, look at me please. I already know you were a drug addict. I won't let this get between us but be warned, I don't want an argument or worth..." he finally caught his man's eyes and what he found there was fear. "Sherlock, you have to start trusting me and not being scared every time I suggest something could go wrong between us, we are just enunciating rules here, our rules." Sherlock nodded. "So, I was saying, and it was important, that if I ever hurt you, I don't want you - I'd like to say _I forbid you_ but it's out of my reach - I don't want you to hurt yourself. Oh crap, I'm saying it, I forbid you to do so." John leaned to kiss his man but he was still tense.

"Sherlock relax, you have many faults, I'm sure there won't be a day without me discovering a new one - and you may find some annoying ones about me - but it won't prevent me from loving you." Sherlock's eyes widened and John grinned. "Oh yes I love you" he said again and kissed his lover.

Sherlock's wrapped his arms around the doctor holding him in a close embrace. "I love you too" he whispered in his ear.

"I know," John grinned.

"Why..." the brown-haired man begun but the doctor cut him short. "I was talking about rules and remembered I impose one to myself which wasn't fair for you or for me. You can make me say I love you every time you want because it's true."

They laid on the sofa wrapped in each other's arms, kissing and professing their love, amazed that it had only been two days since their first kiss.

Tomorrow promised to be something.

(The end ?)

**Another story is on it's way!**


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